A Little Fall Of Rain
by Tirnel
Summary: Using the lyrics of the song from Les Miserable for most of the dialogue. With Grell and William. Not quite grelliam, bring tissues.


Dearest readers, my baby _decided she wanted to come early, so I've been busy with that. I do not know when I'll be able to update my other stories. I shall_ _continue working on them but unsure of when I can upload them. For one, I've lost my flash drive. Two, with winter setting in and the baby, trips to the library will be limited. Thank you for your support and patience._

 _Also William mostly refers to Grell as he, but changes near the end_.

William thought he would feel relief when it finally happened. When he would no longer be bothered by him. But he didn't. Instead he felt everything... and nothing. He was confused. Their last moment together played on a never ending reel in his mind.

The rain fell heavily as he made his way to his way to the scene after receiving notice that an agent was in danger and needed back up. He got there as fast as he could but he was too late to be of any help. The severed bodies of several demons lay scattered about. Their blood strewn about in every direction. If he didn't know any better, this was Sutcliff's handiwork. The cinematic record of the soul he had been sent to collect spilled out of control from its host. The agent sent to collect it was not in sight and was certain to receive a reprimand when he was found.

William calmly collected the soul and readied himself to return to his own realm. He would deal with his subordinate later. It was then he spotted the agent in question's death scythe. It was Sutcliff's all right but why he would leave it lying around discarded like that was beyond him. He walked over to it. Beyond the hedge where it lay, William spotted its owner curled up on the ground.

"Sutcliff," he called. Sutcliff did not move or respond. William took his scythe in hand and nudged him with it. The moon came out from behind the clouds and William saw excessive amounts of the redhead's favorite color pooling around him. Grell's eyes opened slightly and a peaceful smile spread over his face as he looked at William. "Will," he breathed.

"Sutcliff, how bad is it?" Grell didn't answer, his eyes reclosing. William knelt and pulled him into his arms. "Sutcliff?"

Grell looked up at him, his voice weak as he spoke, "Don't you fret, my darling. I don't feel any pain."

William tried to shield his body from the rain as he attempted to assess his wounds. Grell laughed, coming out as more of a cough when William suggested they move to a drier area. "A little fall of rain can hardly hurt me now... You are here... That's all I need to know" he snuggled into William's arms. "And you will keep me safe. And you will keep me close. And rain will make the flowers grow."

Grell was speaking nonsense and his wounds were fatal. He did not have long and William could scarcely believe it. He had always considered him a nuisance, but this was not the way he had wanted rid of him and now he found himself speaking what he normally would have considered nonsense from his own lips. "Don't talk like that," William said, "Let me get you to the infirmary." He knew that it was too late. In his mind, he knew, but his heart just didn't want to let go. He held Grell tighter.

"Even a b-average student can tell I don't have long." William couldn't understand how he could smile like that.

"No, you will live." It was ridiculous and William had the odd notion that if he could close Grell's wounds with words of love, he would. "Grell-" he started but he shushed him.

"Just hold me now and let it be. Shelter me...comfort me."

William brushed the hair from Grell's face. "You will live a hundred years, and another..."

"Don't leave me."

"I will not desert you now. Grell, I want to-"

"This rain will wash away what's past. I'll sleep in your embrace at last. The rain that brings you here is heaven blessed. he skies begun to clear and I'm at rest. A breath away from where you are. I've come home from so far... stay with me, Will."

"Hush, Grell. I will stay with you," he swallowed thickly, "till you are sleeping."

Grell placed a had to William's cheek. "And rain will make the flowers..." The light faded from his eyes, his hand falling from William's cheek as his body stilled and William felt that bit of color in his life drain away.

Grell's funeral was short and simple. William was shocked by how few had showed up as he watched from a window. He could not bring himself to attend. He felt like a coward. Her life was cold and dark, yet she was unafraid. He realized she was one of the bravest people he had known.

It wasn't much, but it was something. It was the least he could in return for the love he now realized toward him was true. When he worked up the nerve to visit her grave, when he was sure no one was there to see him, he planted roses for her. Afterwards, visiting her became routine. He would stand there alone and think.

Ronald Knox came one day when he was there. He remarked on the flowers while William kept to his thoughts. Knox thrusts his hands un his pockets and looked to the sky. "Looks like rain."

"A little fall of rain, can hardly hurt her now," William answered absently. "And rain will make the flowers grow."


End file.
